I only committed half way
To bangs this time.
My jaw will not unclench.
My eyes are all dried up.
Sternum braced and hot to touch.
This full moon feels guttural
And I am not immune to the burn
Of an unhealed Leo.
It’s easy to forget the feeling
Of being wakened at 3 am.
The shadow time of winter,
Another log on the stove.
A jolt of fear that arises.
Eyes wide in the dark
Hands reaching out
Grasping at those whose spoons
Are still stacked and soiled and
Waiting in the sink.
And here we are in liminal time.
Feeling and fighting burn out
In a burning world around us.
Yet some how, I am still
Burdened with the task
Of paying my taxes on time.
We live in the belly of a beast
At the will of a mighty dragon.
To be alive, is to drink
From the well of gasoline.
Extracted and imposed.
Cradled in the veil of ‘normalcy.’
A gaslit class system
Will be too distracted to see
How this gas continues to
Fuel the flames.
A gaslit, divided culture
Will be too stretched thin
To gather the water,
To douse the fire.
And maybe we have already arrived.
our very family, too busy, too heavy -
To stand up for a cease fire.
No empire is immortal
And neither are we.
A worn out, hopeless people
A perfect feast
a thirst for blood
In the belly of an
imperial dragon.
"Feeling and fighting burn out
In a burning world around us." I could quote the whole damn thing as all of my favorite lines. Thank you thank you thank you.